Never Enough
by Equinexia
Summary: Bunny gets his "fill" out of every hero. Of course, he keeps the best for last. Barnaby/Kotetsu, Barnaby/Everyone. Post-episode 9. Warnings for each chapter inside.
1. Chapter 1

For this chapter

Pairing: Barnaby/Pao-Lin  
>Rating: Pg-13?<p>

Barnaby had this strange habit of wanting to taste whoever he had an interest in. As he became a hero, he had varying degrees of interest in each of his 'colleagues'. Which surprised him. _All_ of them had caught his attention. Now, he had to get rid of this arousing curiosity before it grew to extremely large, uncontrolable proportions which may or may not involve confining them illegally in one room and satisfying his hunger for each of them, one at a time.

He was extremely picky and the rare opportunity to feel so many on his tastebuds made him dizzy. He'll savor each of them, greedily enjoying the flavors they had to offer.

-T&B-

Dragon Kid was just a teenager - and as such too young for his taste - but a strong one. Pao-Lin mastered martial arts and her NEXT powers intrigued him. Strangely enough, her personnality fit : she was as prickly as thunder. Getting close to her was near impossible. Kotetsu managed just fine. The man was gifted with the ability to get along with nearly everyone, _especially_ with kids. It made sense - since his partner was pretty childish himself - even more so now that he knew he had a daughter.

However, on the mission with Sam, the Mayor's son, his partner had been no good. The baby had taken an instant liking for Pao-Lin, screaming whenever another hero approached. Even though he had declared the baby needed a woman, he never thought he'd chose the chinese girl. Against his own will, they had all crashed at _his_ place, the uninvinted guests wreaking havoc in. Every. _Single. __**Room.**_

Evening quickly took over. Both kids, tired by the eventful day, had went to sleep in his bed. Taking advantage of the situation, he tucked her up, lifting the cover higher on her sleeping form as she rolled on her back. Dragon Kid stilled, breathing deeply again. Still hunched over her, he kissed her between furrowed eyebrows, soothing them out. He gently let the cover go, mindful not to wake her up.

Barnaby contemplated the taste lingering on his tingling lips – from electricity? – as he made his way back to Kotetsu lounging in the living room. The tang of green tea mixed with lemon peel gradually mellowed out, the sweetness of warm honey taking its place on the tip of his tongue. When the old man offered him a glass, he was a bit reluctant to wash the taste off with alcohol.

Criticism greatly encouraged for this story. (It was a bitch to write D: )


	2. Chapter 2

Pairing: Barnaby/Karina  
>Rating: Pg-13?<p>

He had the same issues with Blue Rose as he had with Dragon Kid: too young and not easy to approach. Unlike Pao-Lin though, she seemed torn in many aspects of her life as well as strongly disliking her position as a hero, affecting Barnaby in ways he never thought possible. He didn't understand her and that was the problem. He had silently been brain-storming for _weeks_ when Kotetsu had mentioned her birthday coming up. Barnaby had instantly gotten out of his office chair, asking the older man the exact date.

A few days later, a party was thrown for the occasion. Armed with chocolates, he gave her the dark blue box they were carefully wrapped in. Karina smiled, eyes sparkling with excited curiosity, and extended her left hand toward the box, her right one slowly lifting as if intending to hug Barnaby in thanks. Catching it, he slowly bent, lightly brushing his lips along her knuckles before firmly pressing them between her forefinger and thumb.  
>Raising his eyes towards her face, he saw her clutching the chocolates against her chest, flustered in embarassement. When he relaxed his grip, her hand quickly joined the other.<br>He turned around, ignoring Kotetsu's yell of "What the hell, Bunny?" and the other heroes' expressions varying from shock to amusement. Finished with his business, he left without looking behind.

Her fingers had been cold but her wrist had been pleasantly warm, throbbing with her fluttering pulse. Collecting the taste of her on his lips, he hummed in wonder. It was hard to pinpoint - what with vanilla slowly but surely filling his senses - but the sweetness of blueberries lingered long after he had gone home.

Criticism greatly appreciated~


	3. Chapter 3

Pairing: Barnaby/Ivan  
>Rating: Pg-13?<p>

Origami Cyclone had come next. Shy, almost a recluse, watching from afar the other heroes shining when he stayed in the dark, waiting, _always waiting_ – a failure of a hero. In every aspect. He never saved anyone, never put himself in danger. And here comes Barnaby, stealing every heroes' spotlight including the little Ivan actually managed to get. Barnaby was very aware that he caused bitterness for some – just ask Kotetsu, that annoyingly loud old man – and Ivan was no exception. The bespectacled man had felt since he arrived a lurking presence, following his every step. He knew Ivan tended to stalk him all day long. And he felt flattered, being the center of such undivided attention. However, his view of the 'wee-a-boo ninja' changed dramatically when he assisted to his altercation with Edward and Lunatic. This bout of devotion for his long-time friend, one moment giving his life to be forgiven and the other, giving his life _again_ to save him bewildered Barnaby. It had to be unhealthy - _he refused to consider Kotetsu's bravery, taking a hit for him, on the same level as Ivan's desperate attempts to get his friend back_. Obsession never did anyone any good. Barnaby snickered at the irony. As if he had any right to say that.

Using to his advantage Ivan's stalking tendencies, he intended to get him alone in some random room with a lock to keep him from fleeing. Easy, right? Well, no, it wasn't. Ivan got really nervous whenever Barnaby was alone. He never followed him to the toilet or the shower and the stalking stopped when he got out of the building. The situation was tricky. Ivan only showed himself if others were around, afraid he'd get caught.  
>Having no choice, he had to do the deed with an audience. He quickly called his partner who appeared in the hall in a matter of minutes. Origami swiftly revealed himself, looking as if he had just came in. Barnaby insulted the old man, working him up enough to start bantering, Kotetsu yelling his head off in irritation and him swiftly answering with a denigrating remark. He kept an eye on Ivan at all times, his objective was to distract his partner into forgetting the little blond's presence. Said blond kept shuffling his feet, obviously uncomfortable, eyes glancing everywhere but at the two other males in the room. Fine, Barnaby just had to <em>get<em> his attention.

Kotetsu was fuming, mouth spouting whatever came to mind. As long as he could answer to Bunny's taunts, he hadn't lost yet. Fully aware of that fact, Barnaby kept their conversation going, having fallen into automatic a long time ago. Purposefully making his way to Origami, he saw the slightly panicked eyes and quaking, not hesitating when he grabbed the pale left hand with his right and laced their fingers together to keep him in place.

The banter had escaled to full-out shouting and Kotetsu quickly had enough of the enerving prick. Spitting one last insult, he stomped through the entryway, leaving Barnaby and Ivan alone. The shorter male was shaking, unsure of what was happening and _why_. He kept his head bowed, refusing to look at Barnaby. As time ticked by, fingers still interlocked, Ivan had worked himself into a full-blown panic, nearly hyperventilating at the pressure he put on himself waiting for the other to say or _do something-_

Barnaby turned to face him, his free hand caressing the side of his face to follow the curve of a tightly-clenched jaw. He gently grabbed a now trembling chin, discovering teary amethyst eyes. Ivan blinked once, then clamped his eyes shut in shame. The tears fell down his face, leaving tracks behind them, before crashing on his jacket's collar. Barnaby caught one lazily rolling tear with the tip of his tongue, appreciating the salty water. Softly, he left feather kisses on each eyelid, one hand now resting on soft blond hair. Straightening up, he erased the tearmarks with his left thumb and lifted his hand entwined to the smaller one. Caressing skin with lips slightly damp from the tears that had clung to blond eyelashes, he cautiously desentangled himself. When Ivan opened his eyes, he was left alone in the hall.

Not so far away, at his desk, Barnaby lazily traced the seam of his lips. Warmth spread from them, strangely sensitive after such barely-there contact. The salt from the tears enhanced the underlying soft flavor of almond, reveling in an unexpected taste that was so close to cherry and yet not quite but much, _much_ sweeter.

Criticism greatly appreciated~


	4. Chapter 4

Pairing: Barnaby/Antonio  
>Rating: Pg-15 (just to be safe)<p>

Warnings: Molestation? 

Rock Bison had been the easiest so far. Despite Barnaby not feeling that much of a physical attraction, the man had a presence about him that forced grudging respect and admiration out of him. The guy was decently ranked so he _had_ to be a little bit more level-headed than his stupid partner. Or maybe not. Barnaby clearly remembered that time when Rock Bison got a car stuck on his horns and his thoughts had been along the lines of 'moron' or some other belittling adjectives. Either way, he was buff, all hard muscles and strength whereas Barnaby was more the 'rely-on-your-brain-matters' type. And what Barnaby didn't have, Barnaby wanted.

On one of their 'heroes' night out', Barnaby had refreined from drinking too much. Unlike the two completely inebriated – idiots – _heroes_ sitting on his left. When they had come in, the old man had sloppily dropped his arm on Antonio's shoulders, ready to drink themselves silly 'til morning. Now, neither of them managed to stay straight in their stools without swaying, supporting each other in the process of not falling off. However, nature's call came in early – around ten o'clock – for the larger man who attempted to extract himself from the other drunkard without crashing face first to the floor. When he finally got up, Kotetsu flopped down on the counter, cheek pressed into it and slurred something unintelligible. Barnaby excused himself, following Antonio to the men's room.

Once inside, he waited for him to finish before carefully approaching the man now standing in front of the wall-covering mirror. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, looking at Barnaby hovering near his right shoulder in the reflective surface, way too smashed to actually be bothered.

Barnaby took his time, wondering what would be best. He felt the dark, slightly unfocused gaze following his every move. Lowering his eyes to the other's body, they glued themselves to Rock Bison's back and more precisely, to his thick neck and wide shoulders.

He slowly stroked bronzed skin with teasing fingertips, stretching the collar of the black, tight-fitting shirt. Heat radiated off him in waves, the alcohol and the stiffling atmosphere of the bar being the most likely reasons. Sweat had long since collected on Rock Bison's eyebrows, beads of it sinuously rolling down the side of his face before running down the corded muscle of his neck, along his collarbone and finally pooling in the hollow of his throat.

Barnaby had watched, mesmerized, following the path that single sweatdrop had made on the tanned skin. Another one quickly formed, going down the same road. Before it could get past his reach, the blond hero swept his hair on the other's shoulder - making him shudder - as he licked up the column of Antonio's neck, catching the running pearl of sweat. The man was taller than him and in a split-second decision, he plastered himself to the other's back feeling hard mucles shift and clench to accomodate the added weight he hadn't anticipated in his state of intoxication. Barnaby retreated a bit, focusing his attention on the _back_ of Antonio's neck this time. Without thinking twice, he swirled his tongue around the most proeminent vertebrae before slowly making his way up, stopping when hair tickled his nose. He planted an open-mouthed kiss there and backed off, watching the much larger man groan and the way mucles bunched with tension. He smoothed his hand down the sculptured back and turned on his heel, walking out.

He bypassed the other heroes, telling them over his shoulder that Rock Bison felt a bit sick. Kotetsu still hadn't moved, mumbling to himself something about beef and rabbit, earning himself a raised eyebrow from basically everyone in hearing distance.

Getting in his car, Barnaby sighed in content. The bitterness of sweat and musk, heightened by the blend of rhum and smarting spice clung to the back of his throat, scorching like red-hot iron on his lips and tongue. He reflexively swallowed to soothe the burning, only multiplying it ten fold. The raw taste had managed to blaze its way down his oesophagus, the hot trail melting away late at night.

Criticism greatly appreciated~


	5. Chapter 5

Pairing: Barnaby/Agnes  
>Rating: Pg-15 <p>

Even though she wasn't a hero, Agnes had caught his eye. An angular face, carefully plucked eyebrows, long eyelashes framing perfectly made up large green eyes, a button-up nose, plump lipstick-mauve lips, high cheekbones, wavy chestnut-colored silky hair falling in cascades over her shoulders, drawing anyone's gaze to her generous cleavage, thin hour glass-like waist and generous hips that then gave way to long legs perched on high-heels; she was the epitome of feminity, of a woman _with power_.  
>It wasn't enough for Barnaby. Appearances revealed themselves to be deceiving most of the time. She was beautiful, there was no denying that, however, her appeal resided elsewhere. Ever since Barnaby had saved her on that fateful mission with the Mayor's son, he had glimpsed at a caught-off guard Agnes. She was his superior, and someone who was required to be <em>perfect<em>. That moment when, in his arms, she had looked completely lost before reminding herself _that she was the boss, appearances before anything else, she had a duty-_  
>Barnaby knew too well perfection to be impossible but defiling authority announced itself to be quite thrilling.<p>

Another day, another photoshoot. Lately, Sternbild had been pretty much inactive criminally-wise. HeroTV thus took the occasion to raise Barnaby's already roof-plundering popularity. Of course, Kotetsu had to tag along, willing or not. He actually was sitting in a chair behind the photographer, boredly glancing at whatever came in his field of vision. In the corner of his eye, he could see Agnes watching Barnaby posing, obviously appreciating the view. Kotetsu huffed. What did that kid have that he didn't?  
>He had charisma, was pleasantly looking if he said so himself, had a nice personality, had a <em>sense of humor<em>-  
>Kotetsu stopped his self-flattering. Whenever Bunny had to turn in Agnes' direction, his gaze would rise in heat a few notch, seduction flickering in the emerald of his eyes. But what made Kotetsu's jaw drop was <em>his boss' reaction<em>. Once the heated, come hither look landed on her, she'd subtly slide her hand through her hair, over her shoulder to show the fair skin of her neck. She'd then brush manicured nails over her collarbone, opening her button-up shirt wider, more of her shoulder visible. And each time, without fail, Bunny's eyes would follow her every move to finally fix themselves to the growing smirk on her lips.

The photoshoot neared its end and one last look was exchanged between the two but this time, the blond stared into Agnes' eyes long enough for the photographer to take notice of it and scold him. Barnaby politely excused himself, posed two or three times more before exiting the set to change into his casual clothes. Fortunately, Kotetsu was distracted with kids modeling for some Christmas event, vainly trying to make them accept his Wild Tiger cards. Barnaby shook his head. The old man'd never change.

Entering his changing room, he wasn't surprised to see Agnes leaning on the wall near the mirror. As he closed the door, she came up to him. No words were exchanged. She knew what she had to lose in those kinds of transaction just as much as he did. They silently agreed to never speak of it, or to ever do it again.

Standing inches away from each other, Barnaby lifted both hands and pushed her hair behind her ears. Fingers sifted through brown locks, stopping with his thumbs caressing her cheekbones. He brought their foreheads together, closing his eyes briefly.

Slowly, he backed her up against his seat. Her knees hitting the chair, he carefully sat her down, light hands pressing on her shoulders. Kneeling before her, he stroked her hair out of her face, hands falling to her shoulders once again, sliding down her arms and back up again, fingers spread over the rustling material.

Heat gathered under his palms and the proffered skin of her throat lured him in. Lids falling half-mast, he brushed his lips from her collarbone, to the hollow of her throat before moving up to her jumping pulse. He pressed multiple kisses, catching skin between his teeth before licking to soothe the slight ache.

Nose bumping her ear, lips still trailing his path up, he kissed her jaw and nibbled on her earlobe, the soft pierced flesh sending hot and cold shivers up and down his spine.

He never sped up his sensual pace, even when he could feel Agnes' breasts pressing urgently against his chest in time with her ragged breathing. Both ears, throat and collarbones thoroughly nipped and kissed, lips leaving her skin, Barnaby was caught off guard when nails dug into his scalp and forced him to bend down. A mouth met his in a brief clash of lips, an imitation of a kiss.

There was nothing sweet, just Agnes' sudden need to reaffirm her dominance, her way of saying "We'll stop here and you have no right to complain". No, Barnaby had indeed no right to complain, he had had more than what he bargained for.  
>The HeroTV manager got up without bothering to wait for him to move, closing the door quietly behind her.<p>

Finally changing himself, he listened with one ear to Kotetsu's whining. Something akin to roses filled his nose, the scent nearly overwhelming the taste of cardamom laced with amber. Strangely enough, Agnes teased his nose way more than his tongue but he guessed that was to be expected from a french woman.  
>"Oi, Bunny! Tell me I'm imagining things about you and Agnes-?"<br>"It won't happen again." Finishing tying his boots, he made his exit, unmindful of Kotetsu's reply.  
>"WHAT? I-Is that why you smell like perfume? Wait. <em>Is that lipstick?<em> Oi, Bunny! Get back here, you prick! Bunny~!"

Criticism greatly appreciated~


	6. Chapter 6

Pairing: Barnaby/Nathan  
>Rating: Pg-15 <p>

Fire Emblem had been next on the list. Barnaby was curious. His NEXT power made him uncomfortable - _Barnaby had hated fire ever since __**that day**_ - but not as much as he had expected it to be. He'd thought he'd be completely turned off, unable - _scared, too weak, still a child_ - to approach him.  
>What got his attention though was his way of acting, and moving. He had the kind of ridiculously flamboyant appearance that made you want to laugh but the kind of overwhelming and strong presence that made you shut up and bow. He flirted quite a bit with the heroes, some getting exceedingly embarassed while others gladly played along.<br>Still, there was more to him than a seemingly hot pink-wearing weathercock. It didn't matter who you were, he'd never bow down to you in submission. Respect, maybe, but never submission. Barnaby noticed he had connections, so many connections, being able to track down his family's murder's story this fast; especially when it was kept under wraps, and tight ones at that.  
>It clearly stated 'money', however Barnaby couldn't see Nathan as your wayward rich company owner using all debauchery known to man to entertain himself. No, he was responsible, exuded confidence and inspired trust. When he wasn't up to shenanigans, that is.<p>

So when Barnaby came up to him, fully intent on seducing him to get closer - _and dismissing the tight feeling of his chest filling with guilt, for deceiving him_ - only to be met by knowing sultry eyes and slowly smiling painted lips uttering a simple, "I was wondering when you'd come to me, sweetheart.", he was left completetly dumbfounded. He had been robbed of the chase - _still dismissing the pressure in his chest which was suddenly much lighter_ - but the catch was still as tempting as ever. He had quickly composed himself and advanced on Fire Emblem.

Which had gotten him into the current situation, Nathan resting his back against the wall with Barnaby in his arms. To simply nibbling the dark toned chest, he had moved to nibbling on a full bottom lip, swiping his tongue accross it, running it on the upper lip too before fully kissing moved his mouth against Nathan's, fully enjoying the close embrace. Opening his mouth, feeling Nathan's do the same, he gently coaxed his tongue into the other's mouth. Hearing an amused chuckle, Barnaby scowled.

Changing tactics, he sucked Fire Emblem's tongue into his own mouth, inviting him to play. The quiet laughter died down soon enough when Barnaby's tongue rubbed along the roof of the dark-skinned man's mouth.

It soon became a playful battle of which one of them upped the other in underhanded techniques to surprise the other. Barnaby, as competitive as ever, tried to move fast when Nathan continued to kiss him slowly, totally ignoring the frowning and growingly irritated blond.  
>The thing wasn't that it was bad. It was <em>good<em>, actually. Really, really good.  
>And Barnaby had been totally taken in the other man's pace, thoroughly enjoying the languorous slide of mouth and slick muscle.<p>

Having had more than his fill, being a little greedy even, he freed himself from manicured hands and strong arms. Knees a bit weak, he made his out as steady as he could.

Sprawled on his sofa, he closed his eyes to concentrate on the bittersweet wonder of Nathan's unique flavor. Dark chocolate may have sounded cliché but the taste outruled all others but for hot, _hot_ ginger sprinkled with drops of champagne. They battled on the roof of his mouth, dancing on his tastebuds leaving them aflame with the residual ghost sensation of his one-time partner's tongue. 'The hottest flames', indeed. He no longer had any doubt of that.

Criticism greatly appreciated~


	7. Chapter 7

Pairing: Barnaby/Keith  
>Rating: NC-17<br>Warnings: Erotic Asphyxiation

Sky High, King of Heroes, unappointed hero leader, big-hearted, loved by all, _the best, always ranked first_ in the public eye and in his fellow heroes' esteem. He had a candid personality, was nice to everyone. It irriated Barnaby. Believing everything's all right and happy and pretty makes for a very unrealistic view of the world. Heroes face the worst of the human race.  
>Even though, his partner was a bit of an exception. Kotetsu was grounded by his beliefs; if he lost faith, he wouldn't be a hero anymore.<br>But Sky High wasn't Kotetsu. He obviously admired Wild Tiger, showering him with respect and kind, encouraging words whenever he did something _right_.  
>Also, unlike his partner, Sky High followed his sponsor's orders even if he was given quite a bit of leeway because of his status.<br>Barnaby was convinced that hiding behind an angel's face and a saints' persona, this seemingly strong and unshakable man was full of cracks. He just had to find one and rip it open for this divinity of a hero to beautifully come tumbling down to the hard, unforgiving ground.

Losing Wild Tiger in the rapidly crumbling building had been the easy part. Finding _and_ luring Sky High out of that same rapidly crumbling building had, however, proved itself impossible at first.

Many civilians had been trapped in the skyscraper. Each Hero had been assigned a floor, the only order given was to evacuate it as fast as possible and that when finished, go and help the others. No deaths nor accidents were to happen today.

Sky High had the top floors while Blue Rose had those just below his. She had created a giant ice slide so that the King of Heroes just had to drop the civilians without losing time with putting each of them on ground. She had also made several smaller ones and had stabilised the building with pillars and walls made out of ice.

The bottom floors were taken care of by the rest of the crew, evacuating civilians either by windows to meet the firemen's trampolines or on the slides if they were high enough to have some.

However, Barnaby had climbed to the top floors, hoping to get near Sky High that way. He hadn't planned anything ahead, which was unusual for him.

So when he turned a corner and saw a kid wailing over his crushed toy, he didn't think twice. Pushing his speed, he caught the child and jumped out a window to evade falling beams.

Gripping tightly the small body to his chest, he noticed too late that his power had run out. Silently cursing, he turned around, falling with his back facing the ground. Ready to push the radio button to call for help, his fall stopped mid-air.

Now floating, he looked up to see that Sky High had saved him, carrying him bridal-style in the sky. Barnaby nodded a thanks, the King of Heroes returning it with enthusiasm as they landed on the street. Apparently, they had finished emptying the building.

Releasing the kid still tucked against his chest, he watched him run towards his worried mother, hugging her with big fat tears spilling on his cheeks. He glanced to his right to see Sky High observing the scene as well.

His hand lifted to touch purple fabric but stopped mid-way. He was surprised though when the other caught his hand with both of his, his entire body turned towards Barnaby.

"What is it, Mr. Barnaby?" Sky High asked excitedly, all his attention focused on the other hero.

Unknowingly, he smiled, easily imagining stars sparkling in his baby blue eyes. Who thought he'd get the occasion today? His mind worked fast, trying to find some way for Sky High to accept.

"I'm wondering if it's possible to fly without air. Care to help me find out?"

The american's whole demeanor radically changed. His back straightened, hands clenching, his arms' muscles pulled taught under the skin-tight fabric of his costume. Tension fell on his shoulders as he clearly enounciated,  
>"Really now. I readily accept. It'll be a nice way to become good friends, won't it? Mr. Barnaby."<p>

The underlying sharp tone, masked behind a pleasantly warm voice, held an edge to it.  
>Barnaby squeezed, as hard as he could, one of Sky High's hand before retreating, feeling blood flowing again in his fingers, pinpricks of dull pain piercing his nerves.<p>

_Bingo._

-T&B-

Standing face to face in a narrow, shady street, they sized each other up. Barnaby refused to make the first move, biding his time. Even with their helmets still on, the younger man could feel Sky High staring at him dead in the face. He noticed the slight twitch of muscles but wasn't prepared for what came next.

Keith back-handed him, slashes of wind swirling around his palm as Barnaby's helmet flew right off his head, hitting the ground with a clinking sound resonating in between the brick walls. He had steeled his neck for the momentum, his face not budging an inch. Blond curls fell into place, the now-absent helmet revealing hard and cold eyes.

Careful to keep a blank façade, he rushed into Sky High, both hands on his chest to shove him into the wall behind him. Crushing him against the rough surface, he wedged a knee between the other's thighs.

Jamming it up as hard as he could, a slow, sardonic smirk flittered over his lips when he felt the distinctive hardness of an erection. A thrill shot up his spine. He repeated the action, driving the other male into the wall more forcefully each time, unmindful to the shivering mess and stuttering heartbeat against his twitching fingertips.

A gloved hand sought out one of his own, grasping tightly enough for bones to grind, before guiding it up to the purple collar.

His fingers reflexively clenched, already imagining the strong pulse under his fingers and the bobbing of his throat as he uselessly gulped down air into his constricted windpipe-

While the fantasy played itself in his mind, he had continued the ramming motion of his knee, his other hand firmly keeping Sky High from struggling too much. He managed to get rid of his own black glove with his teeth and a little help from his captive. It was too thick to feel anything through it and Barnaby wanted to thoroughly _enjoy_ Sky High's fall.

White gloved fingers drew the collar down, expanding the only visible strip of skin under his costume.

His nails scraped at a goosebumps-covered neck as Keith forcibly glued their hands to his own throat, already starting to choke from the pressure he himself applied.

Loosely wrapping his fingers, he clawed at the clamy skin, feigning retreat but unable to because of Keith's strong grip on his wrist. Doing so, Barnaby pressed his thumb on the other blond's thumping carotid, feeling the oxygen-filled blood pumping through the racing pulse. The rest of his fingers created moon-shaped marks on the right side.

Making sure his palm didn't come in contact with his windpipe, he alternated pressure on each side, counting to ten before changing: ten seconds of blocking his blood flow, ten seconds of nails digging into the meat of his neck.

Panting could be heard but Barnaby wasn't sure whose it was. Not that he really cared.

He kept his thumb down thirty seconds this time, only letting up enough time for Keith's head to snap up, before pressing down on the jugular once again.

Keith had been humping back on his thigh for quite some time now, legs spread open enough for Barnaby to fit in. Still violently raising his knee, he was certain it felt more like crushed balls than pleasurable friction.

He lifted his knee, resting it against the wall, getting closer to Sky High as he slowly grinded into the other's nuts.

Choked grunts reminded him that he was still cutting off the american's blood flow to his brain. He backed off and snorted, amused, at the sudden tightening around his wrist.

He wrenched his hand back, a hoarse whimper echoing against the walls.

He shook off the hand encircling his wrist before slowly tracing the marks he had left, Keith's frame and breathing trembling under the gentle touch.

Sky High threw his head back, a shuddering breath leaving his lips when Barnaby thrust particularly hard against him as he simultaneously squeezed his windpipe.

Putting all his weight behind the crushing grip, he yanked Sky High's helmet off, chucking it over his shoulder against the opposite wall.

Clenching harder and harder, he felt Keith gasp, his adam's apple bobbing up and down. Never letting up, he saw saliva collect and spill at the corner of his mouth, lips turning a slight shade of blue. Baby blue eyes filled with tears, cheeks flushing at the exertion of futilely swallowing, only managing to hurt his windpipe more.

Pupils had dilated, only a thin ring of green still visible in Barnaby's hungered gaze.

He hurriedly brushed his lips to the skin above his tightening hand, the fluttering pulse throbbing against them. He lapped in short licks between his fingers, spit quickly coating hot skin slick with sweat.

Keith's back arched, coming completely off the wall, eyes rolling back in his head. Barnaby squeezed _hard_ one last time as he slipped his tongue through nearly purple-blue parted lips, seemingly freezing against his burning mouth.

Finally releasing his throat, he kept their liplock, choking Keith's oxygen-deprived lungs a bit longer.

Suddenly backing off, Barnaby let Keith crumple to the floor, harshly gulping much needed air.

Barnaby relished in the steely glare Keith pinned him with as he tugged on platinum blond hair to make him look up. Disdainfully smiling down at the debauched King of Heroes, he eyed the hand-shaped bruise marking the other's throat like a tight-fitting necklace and the blue-tinted lips.

"It looks like blue fits you quite well. Don't you agree, _King of Heroes_?"

Not really interested in the answer, Barnaby straightened up as he let the other go, not one bit sorry when he heard Sky High's skull crack against the wall. He picked up his glove and helmet, not even sparing a glance to the King of Heroes' fallen form sitting on the ground.

The salt of sweat clung to the roof of his mouth, reminding him of sea breeze and late summer evenings. The sweet - _and slightly sour_ - taste of grapes, enhanced by the tangy flavor of grapefruit furthered his remembrance of white sand beaches on humid nights when it was always too hot or too cold to sleep peacefully. As he approached Apollon Media's van, Kotetsu bitched at him for ditching him in the middle of a mission. Barnaby ignored him, perplexed by the torpor invading his mouth, bringing to mind the chilled sensation of melting ice sliding down his throat. 

Criticism greatly appreciated~


	8. Chapter 8

Pairing: Barnaby/Kotetsu  
>Rating: NC-17<br>Warnings: BJ, blood, violent possessivity, angst

Ever since Lunatic's accident, Kotetsu would come home with him twice a week. Barnaby had insisted he didn't trust the old man to properly do the bandages around his shoulder and that, since it was his fault, he had to take responsability. He didn't really think about the fact that Kotetsu obviously had more experience than him in injuries and based all of his logic on the chaos residing in his partner's house.  
>So twice a week, Barnaby would change Kotetsu's bandages, keeping track of the healing process at the same time.<p>

It was some kind of ritual. It always started the same. Barnaby would go and fetch alcohol while Kotetsu seated himself in his only chair. Most of the time, he'd take rosé wine, just like tonight. He'd come back, two flute glasses securely held by the stem between his fingers, the bottle in his other hand. He'd carefully put everything on the floor near the leather chair while he sat down. Filling each glass, he'd pick one up to offer it to Kotetsu, raising it as high as possible. They'd then sip the clear, pinkish beverage in silence. Once finished, Barnaby'd get up, wine in hand to pour some more into Kotetsu's glass, leaving the bottle on his desk. He'd disappear in the hall, coming back with a first aid kit a few seconds later.

The older male would sit up and throw his legs to one side of the chair for easy access to his injured shoulder. Barnaby would approach, lifting one hand to graze light fingertips over the bump made by tape and gauze. He always had difficulty touching that shoulder, afraid he'd hurt him. Each time, he'd huff in self-mockery. Carefully unwrapping the bandages, he'd rip the fabric dressing the wound, tape and all. Kotetsu would yell at him to "Be more careful! He was hurt, damn it."

Soon enough, the bandages would have been changed and they'd get back to drinking in neutral silence.

But tonight, Bunny had other plans.

-T&B-

He had gotten the gauze and everything off, leaving the injury exposed. Dropping the used dressing, he circled the wound with a long finger, mindful not to press on it. He stopped, right hand following the curve of a muscled shoulder, lightly gripping a corded arm while his left rubbed up and down a tense back, working out a few kinks here and there.

A pleased groan distracted his eyes from the sight of once charred but still torn skin and flesh, the edges nicely healing into a pink scar. His glance took in Kotetsu's closed eyes and relaxed face. It darted back to its previous focus, sounds of contentment rumbling in the tan man's throat, reverberating through his massaging hand. It had made its way to the nape of his neck, thumb stroking with mild pressure up and down his vertebraes, fingers tangled in chocolate strands of hair. His thumb slowly migrated to the side, still moving up and down, up and down, up, and down again in a deliberate pace.

Kotetsu had unconsciously bared his throat, hair tickling Barnaby's wrist with the motion. As skin was revealed, the sudden scent of cinnamon hit his nose, his brain associating the smell with _home_. Memories of cold evenings spent by the fire flashed through his mind as he pierced flesh with his teeth, copper exploding on his tongue – _white hot, just like fire, stomach filling with dread, insides cold, so cold, just like metal and iron_ – and whimpered.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he unlatched his mouth, aware of the bite-mark left behind. He refused to lick the wound – _another one, another scar, and it was his fault again_ – as beads of sweat rolled down Kotetsu's face. Lips on a square jaw, he caught each of them before they could run down the column of his throat, eagerly licking them in hopes of masking the blood's taste.

It made him dizzy, the residual acrid taste of vital fluids mingling with the aromatic flavour of cinnamon, unsure of which one gave him a fluttering stomach and a growing arousal.

Sucking, licking, nipping, blowing, he repeated those actions times and times again all over the feverish skin, slight red to dark purple hickeys littering a trembling neck, one heaving shoulder and an arched back.

He would have kept going if not for the hand suddenly touching his own, still on Kotetsu's neck, while he had been voraciously sucking around _Lunatic's mark on Kotetsu_—

Snapping back to reality, the sight of torn flesh surrounded by many kissmarks greeted him. Wide-eyed in wonder, he flicked his tongue over the angry red laceration, earning him a pained grunt. A sick fascination twisted his gut, a flash of danger pierced emerald eyes, realization dawning on him.

_He could hurt Kotetsu._ It was obvious, so very obvious that _he had forgotten_. Lunatic had injured him, but so _had he_. Was he any better than those villains? Could he protect Kotetsu knowing that _he could hurt him_?  
>But what scared him the most was that—<p>

_He wanted Kotetsu no matter what. Torn, battered, broken, angry, deceived, tormented, whether it was his fault or not, it wasn't important because—  
>Taste wasn't enough anymore.<em>

His forehead pressed into tan, bruised skin, his eyes catching every little pricks of color scattered on it, always returning to the most unsightly one, the big distorted and unclean slash across his shoulder.

He didn't know what to do anymore. He wanted to continue but t-those marks had no right to be there. Neither the cut, nor the bitemark, nor the kissmarks. _None of them should mar Kotetsu's skin._

Barnaby was lost, utterly lost. He endlessly mouthed apologies on the sweaty skin, not finding the voice to say them. What had he done? What could he do to get out of this situation? He couldn't rewind time—

He took notice of the white-knuckled grip he had on the other's right arm. Opening his fingers with difficulty, bruises appeared under them – _again. He had hurt him __**again**_—

But then the arm lifted, a hand ruffling his hair in reassurance and comfort. And then Kotetsu hoarsely muttered one word and suddenly, everything was right again, even if he was a sick bastard, he had been accepted—

"_Bunny._"

Releasing Kotetsu, Barnaby grabbed both shoulders and slammed him back against the back of the chair. The leather groaned at the added weight, the older male letting out a pained hiss from the pressure on his wounds.

The blond got to the front of the chair, kneeled before it and reached for tan hips. Hands clasped on them, he brought them to the edge of the chair, burying his nose in the front of his partner's slacks. He felt him tense under his fingertips and heard him reclining a bit, hands behind him as a support.

Not looking up once, he unbuckled the belt and promptly got rid of the other's pants. He stretched as wide as he could the front opening before lowering the bright, neon green boxers – _really, he'd never change_ – exposing a dark red, thick cock to the cold air of his apartment.

His mind completely blanked, the strong musky smell made him giddy, things happening too fast—

Next thing he knew, he had his lips wrapped around his partner's swelling member, sucking with all his might as hot fluid flooded his mouth, a husky mantra of "Bunny, Bunny, _Bunny_-" rolling on the older male's tongue.

Barnaby swallowed a mouthful, some of it dripping down his chin. Kotetsu's spent cock sliding between his lips as he backed off, he resisted the urge to go down again. He stood up, hovering precariously over Kotetsu as he put his glasses down on the cold surface of his desk.  
>His tongue felt sticky, the bitter and salty taste of semen a remembrance of the hard and heavy weight that moments ago had spread his lips wide open with its girth, resting on his tongue and repeatedly hitting the back of his throat as he had greedily gulped around the hot length—<p>

Drops of cum had splattered on the tan abdomen beneath him. Collecting what was left on his face with his thumb, eyes glazed over in lust, he smeared it upwards, starting from Kotetsu's bellybutton. Bending over, he eagerly licked his partner's chest clean of any trace of the white substance. Cinnamon came back in full force, mixing addictively with the already strong tang of sperm in his mouth, making his head spin.

Looking up, he groaned at the sight of his partner shifting further into the chair, basking in the afterglow, skin slick with sweat and shivering with residual pleasure. Barnaby saw the marks _he_ had left there, the trail of drying blood, lips red from biting them.

_Biting_

He fowned. He hadn't kissed him yet. It bewildered Barnaby. He had wanted to kiss him ever since he had started his 'quest'. On their drunken night with Pao-Lin in his bedroom, he had itched to come over and sweetly brush his alcohol coated lips against his partner's. In the hallway with Ivan brainstorming for an exit, he had held back his unoccupied, twitching hand from grabbing brown hair and shutting the old man up with a tongue down his throat. At the bar with Antonio, he had wanted to press cool lips on that drunkard's feverish, sweaty temple. On the set with Agnes, he had repressed himself from stalking over to the gawking old man, wrenching him up with his tie to smash their mouths together. With Nathan, he had wished Kotetsu to be the one holding him so gently and kissing him with such leisure. With Keith, he had wished it was Kotetsu's breath he had taken away and not the blond's.

Straddling Kotetsu's lap, he grabbed the back of the chair with both hands, leather squeaking with the slip of sweaty palms on the fabric. Panting, flushed in excitement, desire clouding his eyes, he felt satisfaction swell in his gut when the older male got hard again, his dick pressing between his buttcheeks. Leaning in, he stopped when their mouths were a hair's-breadth away to huskily moan, his own hard member rubbing on the other's stomach, hips unconsciously buckling. Kotetsu's breath hitched, a silent "_Fuck_" hissed through gritted teeth.

Their gazes locked, Barnaby rapidly closing his eyes as mouths meshed together. At first, it was only a light pressing of lips, skin tingling with the feathery contact. Even though the kiss was sweet, the blond could feel the heat rising. He fervently crushed his mouth to the other, teeth clacking once as he immediately slipped his tongue between hot, compliant lips.

It felt like heaven, his nerves nearing sensory overload. He could smell the sweat, musk and antiseptic coming off Kotetsu's skin, masking the unmistakable scent of wood, strong and robust—  
>He could taste something crisp and zesty like lemons and oranges, the ever present rosé wine in their alone encounters, the cinnamon again—<br>He could feel muscles jumping as he ground down on hard abs, delicious friction on his cock _and_ ass—  
>He could feel calloused hands on his hips, <em>squeezing<em>, taking control of the pace—

Suddenly, Kotetsu bit down hard on his bottom lip, drawing blood, the copper taste sent him reeling—

He choked, shoulders hunching and hands gripping the leather tight as he came, shudders wracking his frame with each clenching of his balls. Head bowed, the last shivers subsiding, Barnaby got off Kotetsu, heading for the bathroom.

He needed to get out.

He wanted _more_, yearned for his heated skin to warm the other's, craving him _around_ and _inside him_, thirsting for his sweat, blood, tears, _his cum_—  
>That wouldn't appease his hunger, it wasn't enough, <em>would never be enough<em>—

"Oi, Bunny."

The blond froze, looking over his shoulder in the corner of his eye. Kotetsu was still sprawled over the chair,one knee raised, legs open, hands dangling between them. His erection proudly rested on a tan stomach, precum pearling at the slit, beads rolling down the side to smear flushed skin.

He violently shuddered as he realized some of the fluid _must_ have stained the back of his pants, mind quickly supplying what could have happened if clothes hadn't been involved—

Stiffling a groan, he watched warily as the older male came up to him and plastered himself against his back, arms wrapping around his middle. Barnaby ducked his head in dismissal but promptly regretted it.

His shirt had bunched up, long fingers skimming over his stomach, muscles reflexively clenching to the touch. They kept running all over his skin, scratches appearing on it after blunt nails had dragged down his torso until they got caught in his pants. Following the hem of them to the front, both hands worked on the button and zipper.

Pants pushed down, his cock jumped, his partner's twitching member sitting heavily against his crack. The older male started to gently rock back and forth, keeping one arm around the blond's exposed waist. Slight tremors ran up his spine as he heard the other's breathing picking up.

One hand plunged into his underwear, Barnaby's head hitting Kotetsu's uninjured shoulder as he groaned in pain-pleasure, still oversensitive with his recent orgasm. The rough hand fondled around a bit, only lightly grazing his aching member. His attention snapped back down when it quickly retreated, drawing back the waistband of his sullied boxers for both of them to enjoy the view.

Appearing palm up, fingers and hand covered in thick cum, the blond didn't react when it landed on his cheek, Kotetsu wiping it all over his neck and shoulder, getting rid of the rest on his shirt. Shocked-still, his partner's hot tongue made him jolt as it lapped up a few drops on his face before directly moving to the juncture where neck met shoulder. He kept licking the same area in long, dragging swipes, reminding Barnaby of a cat bathing itself.

As soon as that thought entered, he cried out when Kotetsu viciously bit down at the exact same place Barnaby had on him earlier. Teeth still clamped around a mouthful of his shoulder, he heard – _and felt_ – a possessive growl escaping the other's mouth. Unclenching his jaw, the older male went to kiss it better, adding a few licks here and there, beard scratching the oversensitive region around the wound.

Barnaby had white spots invading the edge of his vision, sparks of electricity dancing on his bitten - _marked, he corrected_ - shoulder, running up his neck and down his arm, goosebumps breaking on his skin. Through his panting, he tried to swallow, his mouth feeling too dry.

It was no use however when Kotetsu approached his lips – _they were sure to taste like semen and blood, __**his**__ semen and blood, he wanted to taste himself on them_ – to his ear, filled with the sound of his thundering heartbeat, to hoarsely whisper the trigger to his second release that night,

"Did you really think I would be satistfied with just that? I'm just as greedy as you are, Lil' Bunny, if not _more_." 

I hope you enjoyed it! And yeah, you're not getting any more out of me 8D

/shot


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